


What happens under the mistletoe

by wyntereyez



Series: The CS Storage 24 AU No One Asked For [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Scars, and Holidays, interspecies politics, killian is smol, navigating interspecies relationships, post alien invasion, there is fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntereyez/pseuds/wyntereyez
Summary: Killian teaches his alien girlfriend about Christmas.  It goes about as well as one could expect.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Series: The CS Storage 24 AU No One Asked For [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532285
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are, the Christmas plot bunny that was dumped on me when it was far too late to write it in time for Christmas.
> 
> Also, this takes place months after “Sucking Face,” and I’ll eventually go back and fill in the gap.
> 
> Anyway, here’s the standard warning: this is based on the Colin O'Donoghue movie “Storage 24,” in which Killian is Mark, the victim of an unfortunate face-eating incident, and Emma is the face-eating alien. They’re kinda married. There are references to face-eating, and Will Scarlet’s heart will again make an appearance.
> 
> This part is actually FLUFFY. WHY.

Part One

Aliens, it turns out, hate the cold.

And they REALLY hate snow.

Watching Emma in her alien form howl and leap after the offending snowflakes during the first snow of the year had been both hilarious and terrifying.

Killian was honestly surprised Emma had decided to come with him to David and Mary Margaret’s Christmas Eve party. Even more surprising was that she was tagging along with him to the pharmacy.

He’d bought her one of those puffy coats, which she’d grumbled about at first (human clothes were not her favorite thing) but she’d eventually grown to like it.

She’d proceeded to buy two more for layering purposes. This had the effect of doubling her size, and making her arms stick out. The coat she wore as the outer layer had the misfortune of being a dark blue, making her look like Violet Beauregarde after a visit to Willy Wonka’s factory.

Killian was totally not humming the Oompa Loompa’s song as they walked through the snow to Dark Star Pharmacy.

She trotted beside him happily, her hand in his. Her cheeks were flushed, and snow clung to her hair and beanie. She saw he was looking at her and she smiled, flashing her adorable dimples.

Killian liked moments like this, when he could pretend his girlfriend was a normal human, and not the alien commander of a pack of vicious creatures.

Plus, it was the only time he was taller than she was. She tended towards her natural shape when dealing with the press, and on certain social media platforms, they’d been dubbed “the tol and the smol.”

He was “the smol.”

Killian bloody HATED Tumblr.

The pharmacy was only a few blocks from their home, so the walk was actually a pleasant one, though Emma acted like it was the end of the world any time they had to trudge through an unshoveled section of sidewalk.

The pharmacy was one of the few stores open on Christmas Eve, and as a result, it was crowded with last minute shoppers picking up cheap stocking stuffers and headache meds. Which was why Killian was there; he was going to be in the middle of a media circus tomorrow, and he needed the strongest Ibuprofen a prescription could get him.

It was going to be a big day for Emma, and Killian wanted to be at his best: a ship was arriving with the rest of her pack, and her son was with them.

Killian wanted to make a good impression on the boy. He’d eaten his father when he’d betrayed their family.

No pressure.

As Killian waited in line for his prescription, Emma paged through a tabloid she’d picked up. Emma LOVED tabloids, the weirder the better. She wanted to meet the infamous Bat Boy, and had said she wanted to find a Sasquatch. Robin had told her she didn’t have far to look, that she was married to one. It explained the hair, Robin had said. And the smell.

Killian needed new friends. Maybe he could find some on the arriving ship.

He accepted his prescription, then went over to Emma. She had the bench to herself; by now, everyone knew who she was, and gave her wide berth.

Also, in her layered coats, she took up most of the bench.

“Anything good in there?” He asked.

Emma closed the magazine and frowned at the cover. “This Santa Claws… It says he’s an alien. I knew other species frequent your planet, but this one consistently invades your homes, and you do nothing.”

Her grasp of Christmas was tenuous. She couldn’t comprehend the religious aspect, so she focused instead on the gift-giving part.

She was excited about a present she had gotten for him.

God, he hoped it wasn’t another heart. They still had Will’s, preserved and on their mantle.

Killian still had no idea what he was going to give her.

“Santa isn’t real,” Killian began.

A child who had been walking past with his mother overheard this and began wailing. His mother glared and hurried the boy away. Oops.

“Santa isn’t real,” Killian repeated lowly. “He’s something parents pretend is real, so Christmas feels magical.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. Her people weren’t big on pretending. “But, lying to your spawn leaves them unprepared for real threats. What if he were to decide to eat one instead of leave presents? They wouldn’t know to defend themselves.”

Killian twitched. “That’s not going to happen because he’s not real.”

“The paper says - ” Emma began stubbornly.

“Last year, that same paper said Santa was related to Bigfoot. It isn’t the most accurate news source.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. Yellow began to seep into the green of her irises, eclipsing the pupil. “I will capture this Santa Claws and show you,” she said grimly. “And then I shall feed him to my spawn.”

Bloody hell..the war on Christmas had just taken on a whole new meaning.


	2. Part Two

The Nolan’s Christmas Eve party wasn’t for hours yet, so Killian and Emma spent the time decorating Christmas cookies. Killian had begun stress baking not long after losing his hand and long-time girlfriend, Milah, and had become quite good at it. He’d even considered giving up his music to open a bakery at one low point of his life.

Now, though, it just meant he was the one who baked for everyone’s parties.

Emma had helped, somewhat. She’d been overenthusiastic with the cookie cutters, and she’d eaten half the lard for his sugar cookies, but she was excellent at mixing.

And now he was showing her how to decorate cookies. He’d given her the first batch of gingerbread men to practice on, because she’d distracted him and they’d overcooked.

After teaching her the basics, he began working on his first plate of sugar cookies. It was relaxing, really, carefully frosting each cookie and making them unique (not that his friends appreciated his efforts).

This time, however, he was distracted by Emma. Her tongue was poking out of her mouth as she examined the cookie before her. Its left hand had broken off, and she glanced between it and him.

Then, with great care, she selected the tube of red icing, and proceeded to squirt half of it on the gingerbread man’s face. She then took one of the candy eyes and smooshed it in the icing.

She raised it up, beaming. Icing dripped down its chest. “That’s… uncomfortably realistic,” Killian said faintly. “Maybe next time, use less icing, aye?”

She flashed him one of her grins with far too many teeth, and went back to work.

There was something disturbing about watching her bite the left hands off the rest of the gingerbread people and decorate them the same way.

He finished an hour before they had to leave. After he’d packed his cookies in containers, he’d suggested doing the same for Emma’s so she could share them with their friends. Emma had hissed and crouched over them protectively.

Okay, then. Looked like they were keeping her cookies.

Emma no longer needed assistance with human clothing, so he left her to get showered and dressed. After his shower, he lingered by the mirror, as had become his habit.

Dr. Whale had done an amazing job putting his face back together. It was definitely face-shaped, and even Killian-shaped. But there were furrows in his cheeks his beard didn’t quite hide, and a knot of scar tissue where his right eye had been.

And he still didn’t know the reason for what he could only describe as an autopsy scar running the length of his chest and belly. Emma had said he’d been ‘improved’, but he still had no idea how; the only visible effect was that he seemed to be hairier than he had been.

He tore his gaze away, and dressed in a nice button down, with a comfortable sweater pulled over it. Last, he added the eye patch he’d taken to wearing in public.

He left the bathroom to find Emma already ready. Her clothing actually matched, though her hair needed a little care. Killian helped her pull it up away from her face, and she crooned happily.

“What is expected of me at this party, Mate?” She asked. They’d already gone over it, but he knew she was nervous. She could handle press conferences and politics with ease, but an evening out with friends was more difficult. Hers was not a species that socialized for fun.

Killian bumped his forehead against hers. “Just talk to people. Everyone’s curious about you, so tell them about your homeworld, things like that. Nothing too violent,” he cautioned. “Or too personal. If they’re too invasive, start asking them questions about Earth and humanity.” He booped her nose, making her smile. “No killing. And if it’s too much, just let me know. Or Regina. She’ll scare everyone away.”

A car horn honked. Robin had arrived to pick them up; Killian was still adapting to vision with one eye, and didn’t trust himself to drive yet. “Now, let’s grab the cookies and get going. The party can’t begin without the commander.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine, Love. You’ll see.”

Maybe Emma would be fine, but Killian was another matter. It took ten minutes to wedge Emma and her three puffy coats into the back seat of Robin’s car, and Killian, squeezed in beside her, almost suffocated on the ride there. The evening was off to a promising start.


End file.
